


RIDE  (AFTERCARE ficlet collection)

by darylfiend, xoPeapup



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-08-04 12:47:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16347026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darylfiend/pseuds/darylfiend, https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoPeapup/pseuds/xoPeapup
Summary: A collection of ficlets where Negan gives his boys a ride. Set in the AFTERCARE Universe





	1. RIDE - Perfect

 

 

Daryl pulled his shoulders up as he stepped out of the humid swimming bath and the heavy door fell shut behind him. It was cold and his jacket home at the factory where he had left it earlier on the coat rack. He shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his pants, flicking a wet strand of hair out of his eyes. The bus stop on Piedmont Road wasn't far away but the bag over his shoulder was drenched and the soaking wet towel inside started to seep through the much too big hoodie he wore. It was one of Negan's old ones. Faded dark blue with APEX logo on the back. He loved it. It smelled like chlorine, Tide, and Negan's cologne. And he tucked his chin into its collar, inhaling the comforting scent when the sign of the bus stop came into sight. A group of young women gathered around the blue metal seats under the plexiglass shelter. They laughed and took selfies, sipping coffee out of big Starbucks cups. Each of them wore a pricey Karen Millen coat and flawless makeup to their professionally styled hair.  
  
Daryl stopped in a bit of a distance, feeling like the ugliest person on earth in his old denims and worn down boots. He watched the girls from underneath his tousled bangs, considering to walk because the thought of boarding a bus together with these people, maybe having to sit close to them or having to pay for a ticket in their presence seemed like an unfeasible task all of sudden.  
  
"Amber stop!" A girl with high-heeled ankle boots laughed and swatted her friend's back playfully when she mentioned the name 'Patrick' and how the man had looked at Ashlyn last night at the Sky Lounge. "He's not even my type!"  
  
"Oh please." Amber went through her Fendi bag in search for her lip balm. "He's twice your age and drives a Camaro. Of course he's your type."       
  
The other women laughed and offered their full agreement before one dimmed her cheerfulness somewhat down and glanced disgustedly at the unkempt guy in baggy outfit who soundly sniffed his runny nose. "Ew." She squinted and made half a step to the left just to bring more room between herself and this repulsive person.  
  
The others followed her example, expressing their aversion openly with looks and comments of utmost abhorrence. "God, some people."  
  
"Really." Rosita turned her back on this individual who ranged at least ten miles and three social classes beneath her.  
  
Tara Chambler, from 'Chambler Spectacles',  grimaced and pulled her kitschy sunglasses half an inch down her nose to examine the guy's sordid outfit and longish hair that looked greasier than a piece of old pizza. "Gross." Her attention was drawn towards the street, though, just a moment later when instead of bus number 110 a black Dodge Charger pulled up to the bus station. "Woohoo!" She grinned, pushing her glasses back onto her nose. "Look at him!"  
  
Amber shut her purse, arching a perfectly groomed eyebrow at the exceptionally handsome man on the driver's seat. Dark hair, gorgeous face, neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard, clad in a black leather jacket. "What a babe."  
  
"Helloo Daddy..." Ashlyn sing-songed in deep appreciation, her pulse speeding up when the beautiful stranger obviously showed interest in her physical appearance, leaned across the empty passenger seat and opened the passenger door with a sexy grin.  
  
"Look at you being so pretty." Negan was in love with his boy's absolutely lost, insecure attitude. The still damp hair. Rosy cheeks. Trying to vanish in his baggy outfit, wishing so much he could be invisible. Not even starting to grasp how perfect he was in all his stunning imperfection. "Need a ride, sweetheart?" Warmth flooded his chest at the hopeful look out of shy blue eyes, instantly questioning whether the offer was really meant for him. It softened his voice automatically. "Go on, it's cold."  
  
The daring proposition spoken in deep, gravely voice made Ashlyn's heart stumble and the other girls holler in glee. "Of course." She shouldered her purse and tried for her sweetest smile as she traipsed closer to the freshly polished car and her possible future husband.  
  
...only to bump into the unkempt guy with the nasty snot problem. "Hey! Can't you-" She rubbed non-existent germs and dirt off her shoulder and then watched in total confusion as the guy showed the faintest smile, mumbled a small 'hello' and climbed onto the dream Daddy's passenger seat as if he would have done so a million times before. The heavy door was pulled shut and her stomach flipped in nauseating embarrassment when she witnessed a kiss shared between two men behind the privacy of a car window. A strand of longish hair being gently tucked behind a pale ear. A soggy swim bag put on its place on the backseat. A paper tissue held up to a runny nose with the order to inhale and blow. The buckle of a seatbelt was fastened with the help of confident fingers. A banana pulled out of the glovebox because there had to be a rewarding snack after swim training. Before the handsome stranger started the car, steered back onto the busy street and vanished in Atlanta's afternoon traffic.  
  
...leaving young Ashlyn Gardner and her group of friends behind as if they had no place in his world. Not important or noteworthy at all.


	2. RIDE - Safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan gives Jesus a ride

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this masterpiece is written by darylfiend

The streetlamp flicked on, illuminating the puff of breath that hung in the air, just as Paul Rovia gave a shuddering exhale and tucked his hands into his armpits. 

Winter had crept up on Atlanta over the past weeks, and while it was warm by day, he had clearly miscalculated his decision to leave the house early to wait on the corner for his ride. 

He missed his leather duster. Shane’s camo jacket hung like a tent off his slender, shivering frame, and as comforting as the scent was, it wasn’t nearly as warm as his leather coat had been. He checked his phone, and saw that he was still eight minutes early, swiped to his music app, decided he wasn’t in the mood and closed it again, stuffing the phone back into his pocket. At least the headphones kept his ears warm. He glanced back towards the Grimes residence where two of his dads were snuggled up watching a game, the flash of the television illuminating the curtains drawn across the broad picture window in their living room. 

As cold as it was, he didn’t want to wait inside. He’d been there enough; choir rehearsals came regularly November, they deserved some time to themselves, and he needed some time alone with the half-moon that peeked between the drifting clouds in the deep indigo sky. 

By the time headlights swept over him he had curled up like a lemur on the icy concrete curb. A shiny black Tahoe slowed to an idle while he looked up, and the blinding headlights dimmed. The driver’s-side door opened and shut, and a very tall and handsome man stepped around the car to wrap him up in a strong embrace, letting him wind chilly arms around a long torso beneath a cozy leather jacket to soak up the comforting scent of his favourite dad for a moment. He felt a bristly kiss on his temple and pulled away just enough to stand on tip-toe for a properly delicious kiss. 

Negan hummed into a sweet mouth that tasted like juicy fruit gum, letting the kiss break naturally before patting a firm bottom and opening a passenger door for his boy. “Get in. It’s cold.”

Before he sat, he found his leather duster folded over the passenger seat, with the warmer on, and gave Negan a fond smile that was returned. He always thought of everything.

It was a blissfully smooth twenty-minute drive to the freeway and then through winding streets, lights stroking rhythmically over closed eyelids as the night deepened and settled over the city. The glass felt nice against his forehead, and Negan’s hand felt strong and warm and safe in his. Eventually a guilty moth bumped into his ribs, because he hadn’t said much at all, just greedily soaked up all the comfort and quiet. He sat up straight, quietly admiring the focused face of his chauffeur for a moment.

“Is Daryl feeling better?”

Negan gave him an encouraging smirk. “He’s fine. He’s working tonight.” 

Negan gave his hand an extra, gentle squeeze, before pulling it away to turn into the lot and find a parking spot. 

“He’d like it if you came by.” 

Jesus swallowed down the yucky twitch of fear that suddenly broke free from it’s leash as the car came to a stop in front of the clinic. With sweaty palms, he checked his pockets a third time for his wallet and phone before he really processed what Negan had said and turned to him with wide eyes, which Negan met with gentle confidence.

“He asks where you are every morning. I’ll drive you to practise tomorrow, if you want to stay.” A strong hand gave his thigh a strong squeeze.

He leaned over to give his shoulder a very long kiss. “I’d love that,” he mumbled against a cool leather sleeve, before a wet sniffle escaped along with some very hot tears.

Negan smoothed his hair firmly and planted a firm kiss on his head. “You’ll be fine. Chop chop, kid. I’ll be waiting right here.” 

Of course, Negan had been right. 

Reception was always the scariest part, but the Indian man who had taken his cards and given him a number had been very kind and had a pretty smile and beautiful dark eyes. A little girl with a cotton patch taped over one eye gave him a cardboard book about a puppy to read, and his name was called before he finished. He was fine with the needles. They would give him a phone call in two days. Negan even took a detour on the way to the Eagle, to buy him spicy chicken strips and a vanilla frosty. He even ordered a salad and fed him some of the candied pecans. 

He really was the very best dad.


	3. RIDE - Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's getting colder, but I'm feeling warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Mim for being so encouraging!

Paul held his breath involuntarily as the frosty wind slammed into his face, attempting to force its way down his throat. He sought shelter in the red scarf tucked into his coat until he got his bearings, wondering why it wasn’t immediately obvious to Daryl that Maybe They Should Do This Another Time. 

“Maybe we should do this another time?”

His muffled words were drowned out by the motor roaring to life, just as a strong arm around his waist pulled him by surprised against a solid form that had appeared directly behind him. A silky deep voice warmed his ear.

“It’s only getting colder this week. You ride with me; we won’t be going far.” 

Jesus felt his heart lurch at words, left standing stunned in a haze of excitement when Negan patted his bottom and just as quickly took the steps down and strode to where Daryl straddled the bike, making some minor adjustments or maybe just touching it all over because it finally felt alive and sounded so good to him. 

Daryl was fully absorbed in the front wheel’s alignment as he slowly rolled backward a few paces and didn’t notice the man standing next to him until he heard a harsh snap next to his ear and turned his head sharply. Negan’s high cheekbones had a pleasant graze of colour to them, and two snow flakes clung prettily in stark contrast to short, dark, nicely-combed hair. His expression was serious as his lips moved, but Daryl couldn’t hear what he said, simply gazed awestruck until Negan tapped the handlebar of the bike and made a key-turning motion. Daryl fumbled for the ignition, feeling a flustered heat burn his chilly ears when the motor fell silent and Negan’s lips spread into a heart-stopping smile. 

“That’s better.” A warm, safe palm cupped his cheek and ear, holding his attention. “Is it ready now?”

Daryl’s eyes flickered nervously to Paul, who was holding up his phone taking photos, then back to Negan while he gave a proud little half-shrug and nod of absolute certainty. Because of course, it had already been checked by one of Shane’s mechanic friends, he had just cleaned it up and swapped out the seat for something that could fit both a daddy and a boy. Just in case. He waited while Negan leaned dangerously close to his face with a slight tilt, deep brown eyes studying his with a smug ferocity until he added a gruff “yes, Sir,” to be rewarded with a claiming kiss. 

Negan savoured the shy tongue for a moment before pulling back to deliver a richly enamoured “good boy” against a flushed ear, poking his chilly nose against a sharp cheekbone to take the edge off any jealousy his next question might provoke. 

“You did a fucking amazing job on Paul’s bike. Do you want him to have the first ride as well?”

Daryl swallowed, his butterflies confused about the source of their disquiet but battering his ribs nonetheless. He knew what a good puppy would say, however, and nodded, huffing a little “yeah,” until he found his question, turning to mumble it into the palm of the hand that toyed with his hair. 

“Can I come, please?” 

The smile he earned wasn’t predatory, but fond and subtle and just for him.

“Good boy, asking so nicely.” Negan patted his thigh and stepped back, frosty air and a flourish of foggy breath filling the space between them. “Go pick your favourite, and bring out some helmets. Chop-chop!”


	4. RIDE - Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan picks up boy number one for a date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings from a freezing cold airport dear reader!puppies! Today is a very special day in my life. Come and celebrate with me and the beautiful couple I adore the most :)

"Hja!" Daryl huffed a laugh, his whole face shining with happiness while Jesus doubled over in hysterical laughter.

"What?" Rick grinned, folding one leg over the other. "It's true! Ask her!"

"I bet she freaked out!" Shane sipped his ice tea and waved a wasp out of Daryl's immediate radius with the other hand. "Poor thing."

"Sweet Olivia." Paul tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, exposing a bare, suntanned shoulder. "She had no idea what she got herself into when she accepted the job."

Daryl chuckled and opened his mouth when Shane held a big plastic cup with tea and a pound of ice cubes to his lips, making him drink. He really enjoyed Gay Pride. At first it had been a bit overwhelming. All the flamboyant people, loud music, and open expression of affection. He had no idea that there were so many gay people in the world. And most of them seemed very happy. No matter where he looked, they were kissing, dancing and enjoying themselves in very colorful, scanty outfits, all through town not just here in the Marketplace area. 

The Leather Factory booth had drawn an especially large crowd all weekend, and even now on late Sunday afternoon it didn't seem to decrease anytime soon.  But he didn't mind. Everybody was friendly, people bought a lot of stuff and were more than interested in the new caregiver line. 

Negan had given three demos publicly since Friday and Daryl had assisted at two of them, almost like a real professional. The first one had been about bondage where he got tied up in front of a very big audience and on Saturday, Negan had given a public class about spit kink. He was allowed to wear different gags and demonstrate in front of almost 2000 people on a big stage how well he could take a finger-throatfuck and how much drool he was able to produce. During the course of 55 minutes, he got showered with attention, praise, rewarding spit and kisses from his owner. It had made him giddy for hours and a happy glow had decorated his cheeks until well after midnight because he was so proud that everyone had seen him being so good for Negan. 

The third demo was a fisting one, held on a smaller stage in front of a selected audience and Jesus had been the one to assist, while Daryl was supposed to work at the Leather Factory booth with Shane and Abraham. Two hours, and Daryl had been foaming with rage and jealousy the whole time. But after that, everything was back to normal. Paul wasn't any different and Negan had offered quiet time for both of his subs at the funnel cake booth, talking about swimming competitions and cruise ships while hand feeding deep-fried, crispy pastry sprinkled with sugar.

But even better than that was the big parade. Daryl had never experienced anything like it before and he had taken 41 blurry pictures with his smartphone for Merle and himself because Mister International Leather was paraded through the crowded streets of Atlanta like a King or real God in an open car. There had been other cars as well, big floats and trucks, groups walking by foot. But Negan and his Leather Factory entourage had received the most attention by far, ending with a long speech on the main stage in front of frenetically cheering people.

The amount of pride Daryl had felt when a very tall, very beautiful man in leather jacket had walked him on stage, hand in hand, to introduce him as his permanent submissive was mindblowing. His stomach still fluttered when he thought about it now.

"Done?" Shane took the cup away and when he received a nod and politely mumbled 'thank you', he rewarded both with a hand ruffling already tousled hair. "Good job."

Daryl smiled, he was really very good. And then his stomach fluttered even more when he heard the familiar roar of an engine coming closer and the crowd in front of the booth parted like the red sea. A black Triumph Tiger slowly made its way through the people and came to a halt right in front of a big cardboard-Jesus wearing the newest latex gear the store had to offer.

Negan pushed the kickstand into place and took his sunglasses off, hanging his helmet on the right handle before he swung his long leg over the seat. It was a hot day and he didn't wear his trademark jacket, but a white t-shirt to dusty boots and blue jeans, the only pieces of protection a black kidney belt, a single leather glove, and a bandana in front of nose and mouth. He pulled it down as he was approached by his very happy employee.

"You're late." Rick had been waiting for his boss to come back from his last interview appointment of the weekend. "How did it go?"

"Smoothly." Negan tickled the back of Rick's neck, pressing a brief kiss to his temple before he accepted the drink handed to him, totally ignoring the thirty people trying to squeeze past Eugene and Mister Ford to follow Mister International Leather for a hug or autograph. "How did it go here? Have you been good?" He smirked at his sub, loving his unobtrusive attitude.

Daryl showed a shy smile, nodding, and waited for a hand held out in his direction before he came closer for a hug. Negan smelled like summer. Fresh air and exhaust fumes. His skin was warm and his t-shirt slightly damp. He loved everything about it and buried his nose into the soft, white fabric. "Hello."

"Hi." Negan wrapped an arm around Daryl's waist, "Did you listen to Shane?" turning his head to the side as he took a sip from his bottle.

"Hm." Daryl nodded and then glanced up with a spoken 'Yes.' when his buttcheek was swatted hard. "Can you stay." He didn't mind being with the others but he really wished Negan would stay at the Leather Factory booth for the rest of Pride instead of running from one appointment to the other.

"Will I stay here with you?" Negan widened his stance, loosely putting both arms around his sub as he looked down at him. "No, I won't. I'm fucking hungry. I'm here to pick you up for dinner." The innocent surprise clearly visible in blue eyes almost made his headache vanish.

Daryl flicked his head and sniffed his nose. "'s it a date?" His question sounded a bit gruff but was meant nicely.

"Is it a fucking date?" Negan arched his brows with a glance down. "You bet your pretty ass, it is. I'll buy you spaghetti and treat you like a god damn fucking prince the whole night. Right?" He patted his boy's butt. "Now go get your helmet." 

"Hm." Daryl loved dating with Negan. They didn't do it very often but every time it happened they had the best time. With awesome food or movies, lots of laughter and real conversations about things only they knew about, and of course, every date night was finished off with debaucherous sex in the playroom or bed and sometimes it started in one and ended in the other. It was like a dream come true. "Okay." He went to grab his helmet, slipped into it and adjusted the chin strap, put the little rainbow-colored rubber bracelet he had received from Jesus into his pocket, and then stood a little sheepishly next to Rick and Shane because he knew he was supposed to say goodbye but felt too shy to actually do so.

Shane didn't mind and gave Daryl's shoulder a hearty pat. "Hey, thanks for helping out today, buddy!"

"Hm." Daryl cast his eyes down with a tiny smile crooking the right corner of his mouth. He had really helped a lot today.   

Rick glanced up from the flyer he had received from the Atlanta Lesbian Sisterhood. "Yeah, enjoy the night. Make sure he keeps his phone off for a while. Guy deserves a break."

"Hm. Okay." Daryl nodded. He could hide it. Maybe in his pants.

"Boy!" Negan whistled through his teeth, already straddling his bike. "Chop, chop! I'm fucking starving." 

"Yes, Puppy." A young man showing off his beautifully sun-tanned torso to a daring, black leather kilt came up to Negan's left, nuzzling neatly trimmed facial hair as he purred in his best bedroom voice. "Chop, chop... Daddy's hungry. And gorgeous."

Negan didn't lose his cool posture, adjusted his leather glove and put his Ray-Ban's on. "I thought I asked you to put a fucking shirt on."

"Mh." Jesus sniffed the slightly sweaty hair at the back of Negan's neck. "But I wanna be pretty for all my Dads, Sir."

"Mhm." Negan moved half an inch forward when he felt a hand timidly grasping his shoulder, as Daryl swung his leg over the seat and straddled the bike behind him. "Then stop growing fucking melanomas on your chest." He wrapped an arm around boy number two's waist, pulling him close for a kiss. "Be good."

"As you wish, Sir." Paul returned the affection with a slip of tongue. "Enjoy the feast." He smirked, speaking against warm lips. "And your dinner."

Negan chuckled, pulled his bandana back up to cover his mouth and nose and slipped into his helmet. "Don't forget to report, Bugger." He popped the motorcycle back off its kickstand, making it bounce in place a few times under their combined weight.

"Never." Paul grinned and switched to the man sitting behind one of his Dads. "Have fun." He nudged his nose against Daryl's shiny, black helmet, happy when a clear smile shone in blue eyes as a response. "Eat some dumplings for me."

"Hm." Daryl shared a fist bump with Jesus and held on to Negan's waist with the other hand when the engine was started and the bike rumbled beneath them. They moved slowly through the crowd, accompanied by catcalls and the open worship of Negan's name. People touched the bike, hands brushed their thighs and shoulders, but Daryl didn't mind. He almost enjoyed it, sitting proudly behind the man everyone here wanted. On a badass motorcycle, on the way to a real date. A date for boyfriends, partners, a Dom and his sub. Negan and Daryl. And no matter where he looked, he saw nothing but envious faces.

After almost two minutes they reached the road and stopped, Negan's black biker boots balancing them on the ground. A big hand reached back briefly to squeeze Daryl's thigh. Twice. It made his stomach flutter just as much as the most intimate kiss would, or words with L and Y. And the butterflies in his belly tumbled again in excitement when Negan revved the gas and steered onto the street, picking up speed immediately. Driving past dancing people, the big stage, the crowded marketplace area, stores, restaurants and the tallest buildings of downtown Atlanta. 

Blue sky, sunshine, a warm breeze, and the smell of summer.

Negan changed gears, making the engine roar and muscular thighs clamp tightly to his hips. He made Daryl smile beneath the helmet. He made him feel gay pride.  
 


End file.
